Hi-Tech Hijack Read online

  Chapter 15

  Spending the morning at that law firm made Eddie totally reluctant to commit to any company that might be represented by or that would give power of attorney to such an office. He wondered if that was how the whole industry conducted itself. He stared at the Mediterranean Sea for a long while, but the calmness of its blue waters and lapping waves was not as infectious as he would have hoped. Finally he stood up and walked over to the pay phones at the building across the street. He called two class mates from the university, Noam and Oded, who had found jobs straight after finishing their bachelor’s degrees three years earlier and invited himself to their offices in the industrial park between Rehovot and Ness Ziona.

  They met at the end of the work day at Café Napoli, one of the favorite spots for the science park workers to hang out. The shelves along the counter wall were stacked with packages of the Italian coffee brand Segafredo in a variety of kinds and flavors. On the wall in a large, bold print was the coffee menu with what seemed like an endless array of serving variations.

  They chose a quieter part of the coffee shop to sit in behind a partition in deep chair—perfect for a private conversation away from the crowded section.

  The graceful waitress served them the macchiato, cappuccino, and latte they ordered, and for a little while, they talked pleasantly, reminiscing about their time together at the university and gossiping about girls from their class—which girls were already married and which of the attractive ones were still single and maybe available. Orit’s name did not go unmentioned, which offered Eddie an opening to speak of his experiences of the past couple of days.

  “Eddie, you’re still a bit naïve, that’s all. But you’ll soon grow out of it,” said Noam. “We’ve been through similar experiences, each in our own field. I was also meant to go to the United States to work for the company that purchased the start-up I started with. And the Americans tried to sell me all sorts of stories about different value assessments to get me to give up most of my stock options. They always find some Israeli asshole to do their dirty work for them, one that can handle the Israeli trickster, as they see us. I came to realize that going over there would mean becoming dependent on some capricious factor, one that I was not sufficiently familiar with, and I decided to supposedly settle for less at the company I’m working for now. Since then the tables have turned—the technology the Americans stuck to turned out to be unfeasible while the start-up I work for has been thriving. All those analysts who know nothing about the technology we deal with are declaring us the next big thing and getting the investors all fired up for our IPO (initial public offering) in a few months. When I joined them, the future of the company was still unsure, so they gave me a substantial amount of options, since they weren’t worth much. Now they’re worth a fortune. But who knows—surprises can happen between now and the IPO.”

  “Sounds like you made the right call.”

  “Yes, but here’s the tricky part: rather than speeding up development by investing in more talented people like you, the company is spending its money on publicity. When someone asks Rafi, the founder and entrepreneur, what’s the logic behind pouring the rest of the money in public relations, he says it can take more than a year for a second development team’s work to come to fruition, while investing in meetings with analysts and PR experts has an immediate effect, which is what we need right now. The seed money that was raised by the first venture capital fund that invested in us is running out, and the fund guys are the ones pushing for the PR moves instead of actual progress. Rafi is a decent guy and a brilliant technologist, but he’s in a catch-22. He managed to bring in the fund people thanks to his genuine belief in the idea around which he built the company, and now he feels obliged to them and doesn’t feel comfortable pressuring them into putting in more money from their own pockets. And so principles and truths are pushed aside, and the race is on to raise more money from funds or by public offering with the help of analysts. Let’s just hope the money comes in before the whole thing blows up.”

  “I take it the analysts are a significant force in the hi-tech industry?”

  “They are, which is one of the worst things about this industry. Analysts are people who are meant to give out their conclusions about the performance of companies—either in the general press or in the statement papers of the various venture funds. An analyst is supposed to be someone who understands the industry he or she is writing about. Problem is, most of the analysts have no practical experience whatsoever. They’re usually business-school graduates, which gives them the illusion that learning how to analyze a balance sheet actually means they know how to run a company. Instead of working in the industry, they criticize it. You know that saying that every theatre critic is a frustrated, unsuccessful actor or director? That’s them exactly,” said Oded, summing up his dislike of analysts.

  “But the analysts, as superficial as their work may be, at least have an obligation to give objective assessments; they have a responsibility to the public investors.

  “Originally, yes, they started out with a commitment to the investors. But over the years, they watched longingly as their peers working for funds became richer and richer while they got left behind. So today, every serious analyst has a bypass route to one of the funds. It’s all done with the backup of lawyers and accountants, who ensure no connecting trail between the analyst and the fund can be traced. And that’s on top of the light greasing from the company itself.”

  “Something tells me you don’t mean the light greasing of guns as we used to do in the army.”

  “No, Eddie. By light greasing, I mean a well-disguised, indirect bribe. Here, let me give you an example. For our research and development, we needed live tissues from panda bears, so the company invited the analysts to a seminar about our work in the National Center for Panda Preservation—in China, of all places. As you know, pandas are rare and at risk of extinction, and the Chinese government was pressured by green organizations from around the world into establishing a center where the pandas are protected. They even manage to breed them sometimes, and pandas rarely breed in captivity.

  “The analysts’ tour included a two-week, all-expenses-paid trip to China, paid for by the preservation center that supposedly invited the analysts. Except the funding was done through the center’s international donations fund. As I’m sure you can guess, the donation in this case was made by our company toward the center, thereby covering the cost of the trip without directly linking the analysts to our donation, which was disguised in the payment for the research we held at the center. The Ministry of Foreign Affairs boasts about the Israeli assistance to China and to the protection of animals. Even the UN mentioned our company in a discussion about a new generation of enlightened hi-tech companies that strive to make the world a better place and so on. And as you can imagine, the report the analysts published after the trip was basically a long list of praises about our company. That way it’s a win-win arrangement. The only tiny, little thing is that the analysts’ recommendations to buy into our company and invest in it are far from objective.”

  “So that’s how the industry works? And here I was thinking you guys actually wanted to save the world.”

  “Yes, that’s what we wanted when we were fresh out of university. We were sure all the principles and values we were taught in the scouts and the army and the tools we acquired in university would enable us to build a better world.”

  “It’s all a sham,” Oded chimed in. “We’re pawns in the hands of sharks and charlatans who care about nothing but the bottom line, the profit, and the quickest ‘exit’ from the company with the most cash. All the theories about building a team, grooming human capital, and all that is total bull.”

  “And you’re all right with this? With being playthings controlled by this group of frauds?”

  “Don’t kid yourself, Eddie. You’ll be in the same situation. All you can do is pray that the company you end up with is one of those five percent of compa
nies that succeed, and then at least you’ll be left with a hefty sum in your pocket when you cash in your options.”

  “There’s another dodgy group in the investment community that bears the respectable title of ‘angels’,” said Oded. “The angels are all sorts of contractors and bored rich guys with too much money on their hands. Some have no education and take pride in hiring people like us—scientists, doctors, and professors who research areas they know nothing about. Talking with their friends on the weekends, they impress one another with the interesting investments they make, and then they come to work and treat us like servants. The maximal planning horizon they are capable of is two years—the time it takes to build a house. When you try and explain to them in board meetings that biological processes require a pre-determined amount of time defined by nature and that there’s nothing we can do to significantly change them, they lose their minds. They think they bought a dot-com company—a software company that issues a new version of its products every six months. It doesn’t even register with them that they invested into the life sciences field, and that the time frames here are completely different.”

  “That’s extremely disappointing to hear,” said Eddie in a low voice. The three friends were silent. Then they got up and started depart.

  “I’ll have to do some real, hard thinking before I decide what it is that I’m going to do with myself.”

  “If you come up with an interesting idea that can get us out of this swamp, I’d love to hear about it,” said Oded. “But you need to make up your mind quickly, Eddie, because sooner or later this bubble called hi-tech is going to blow up in our faces, and we better be prepared.”

  “I’ll be in touch, guys, and thank you for your time. Talking with you was very informative, and I have the sense it’s going to save me a whole lot of frustrations and unwanted surprises. I’ve had enough of those these past few days.”

  They left the coffee shop for the busy traffic of early evening, and Eddie stepped into his dad’s Mitsubishi pick up and headed back to the tranquility of Hefer Valley.

  He spent the evening in front of the TV, staring at the news and lost in thought, bouncing back and forth in his mind between the imaginary Santa Monica and the reality of the little slice of earth between Rehovot and Ness Ziona. He wished he had his best friend Amit to talk to about all this, but he was still on his travels; and Eddie wondered if he had already made it from South Africa to Australia. He thought of the talk they had on their way to Kenya about starting the Ebola project. He had been very articulate at that time, giving plenty of well-grounded reasons and explaining to Amit and convincing himself why he shouldn’t start his own company before gaining some experience in a bigger one. Now only a few months later, he was leaning toward changing his mind completely.

  The phone ringing shook him from his reveries, and he got up to answer it. The clock on the wall opposite him said 11:00 p.m.

  “Hello?” he said in a tired voice.

  “Good evening, Eddie.” Someone greeted him in English. He recognized the voice immediately.

  “Rose! Good evening to you. How’ve you been? I haven’t had a chance to write yet to thank you for the wonderful time we spent in London.”

  “I’m fine; at home in London right now. But I’m coming to Israel tomorrow with a group of young Jewish people for a weeklong tour. It’s part of some Zionist initiative; I don’t know what it is exactly.”

  “Yeah, I know Zionism isn’t your family’s strong suit.”

  “Be nice for a few minutes, Eddie. I was curious to see what kind of natural reserve a creature like you grew up in, and I decided to come check it out for myself rather than trust your stories.” She laughed that wonderful laugh of hers.

  “Sorry, Rose, I was just kidding. I’d love to meet you.”

  “What’s going on with you? Have you started your new job yet?”

  “I was supposed to; but there have been some last minute changes, and I still don’t know when I’ll be starting.”

  “Great! That means you’ll have no problem making the time to see me.”

  “Sure. How long will you be here for?”

  “The tour is one week, but I have an open ticket,” she said, dropping a very thick hint.

  “Your schedule must be pretty packed.”

  “It is, but they’re giving us tomorrow night off to settle in and rest.”

  “So will it be ok if I come to your hotel tomorrow evening?”

  “I’ll wait for you in the lobby at nine p.m. See you tomorrow, Eddie.”

  This girl is something special, thought Eddie. It hasn’t even been a week since we parted, and already she’s found a reason and a way to come to Israel. Maybe there’s more emotion hiding under that cynical British humor of hers than I thought.

  During their London week together neither Rose nor Eddie displayed any deep feelings. They had slept together from the first night in direct continuation of the brief affair they had in Africa and spent the entire week together. But in the background was always the understanding that in a few days’ time they would go their own ways, and that there was no point building any expectations beyond that.

  The word love was never mentioned, and even when Rose whispered in his ear after they had made love, “No one has ever made me feel this good,” her tone and manner made it sound like she was grading him for a good technical performance, not speaking from the heart. Eddie, whose mind was always busy with the next step of his life, never allowed himself to forget that he was headed back to Israel for the job that was waiting for him. Just like the previous time they spent together on the farm in Zimbabwe when he never forgot the task ahead of him at the Ebola valley. Anything else could only be considered if it wasn’t going to get in the way of the mission. Rose on her part was living her life between London and Zimbabwe and showed little interest in Eddie’s stories about Israel. It seemed they were both enjoying a temporary fling, and that was that. He never asked himself why it was that he chose to stop in London for a few days on his way back to Israel. It was only on the flight home that he suddenly felt how good the time he had spent with her was and how much he wished she was next to him.

  The hectic events since returning to Israel put Eddie in a position where for the first time in many years he did not have a clear target and goal to strive to. All of a sudden, he felt he needed someone close to share his dilemma with and found himself eagerly waiting for Rose’s arrival.

  Her phone call gave him a surge of adrenaline and pulled him out of the pit of disappointment and confusion he had been in after the long day he had. His mind was now racing again, weighing the possibility of going to the States against the option of going to work for one of the companies his friends told him about that afternoon. Both options seemed unappealing.

  Both meant being dependent on the whims of others, and he was frustrated to come to the disappointing realization that in any of these cases, those who ultimately call the shots are those who hold the purse strings, even when they are in the wrong.

  If that’s the case, maybe I should go straight ahead and follow my dream to harness the Ebola virus to cure cancer, he thought. At least then I can choose my own investors; I’ll always be part of the decision-making process, and I won’t feel like a marionette being played by factors I can’t control.

  He kept pondering this for a long while, but the more he thought about it rationally, the more he knew there was no escaping the necessary evil of finding funders who weren’t like him. He asked himself if he’d be able to cope with those kinds of people whose principles and ideologies came down to money and money alone. He ended up feeling despaired again and found comfort in knowing Rose was coming the next day.

  At least I can put off having to decide for a few days and try to spend as much time with Rose, showing her Israel and making sure she has a good time here, he thought. It’ll be fun for both of us.

  He gave himself some encouragement. A warm feeling flowed through his body, and he felt he
couldn’t wait to hold her in his arms again. He wanted to send a wordless message to her, transferring his anxieties about the opaque future and receiving her sense of confidence and ease with which she handled her complicated life.

  Chapter 16

  Mornings at the Hefer village start early in the month of May. At the break of dawn, the farmers set out to the day’s work. Eddie was woken by the automated, mechanical sounds from the milking parlor. The smell of warm milk filled his nose, and he inhaled deeply in enjoyment.

  ”I’m home,” he said, smiling to himself. He jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes, and walked to the cow shed.

  “Good morning, Eddie. You’re up early.” Arye greeted his son with a bright smile.

  “Not early enough, apparently. I meant to take over for you and do the morning milking.” He smiled apologetically.

  “The phone woke me up earlier than usual. It was your sister, Dalia, from America. She wanted to know how you are now that you’ve had a few days at home. She said to tell you that, as the middle child, she is insulted. You spoke with your older sister, Rina, and not with her,” said Arye, smiling.

  “Dalia’s right, I haven’t had a chance to call her yet. Rina caught me on the first night after I got back. I promised her I’d talk to Dalia, and honestly it slipped my mind.”

  “Never mind, you can get hold of her tonight before you go to bed. Now as long as you’re up and here to help, you can take over for me and drive the milk to the central dairy. It’ll give me the time to water a few more rows in the orchard before breakfast.”